She's The Duchess
by valafatoren
Summary: Emelan Gang AU. Vedris is the leader of Emelan's most notorious gang, and Sandry is its newest member and out changing the world. Written for Goldenlake Pentathlon
1. Membership

**Series:** She's The Duchess  
 **Title:** Membership  
 **Rating:** G  
 **Event:** Stormy Show Jumping  
 **Words:** 630  
 **Summary:** Emelan Gang AU where Vedris is the leader of Emelan's most notorious gang and Sandry wants in

-

"Do you think the answer is going to magically change every time you ask, or are you doing this purely for the sake of irritating me?"

"Let me join," Sandrilene fa Toren's eyes flashed dangerously, cornflower blue turning steely. She thrust her chin out pugnaciously, sending out a silent challenge for disagreement.

Vedris, known as Duke, the leader of Emelan's most notorious gang to everyone else, met her gaze firmly. "This is not the life I want for my only niece. I have given you the chance to lead a respectable life, away from my work. You know what dirty things go on in the gang."

"And I still whole-heartedly want to join. You don't get to dictate what I do with my own life," Sandry shot back, hands on her hips. She tried to keep her voice firm, making sure it didn't stray too far into a whine. Pulling together all of her height, she looked on resolutely ahead, button nose upturned.

"No," his voice turned dark, "But I run the gang, and no one leaves or joins, or does anything without my say. You won't get anywhere if you try to sweet-talk one of the members into letting you in."

Sandry ground her teeth, jaw clenching, "You need a mage for this job. I am one. You don't even have to pay me to do the work, or extra to keep quiet about it."

"Money's not a problem," Vedris stated, looking down at her, "Besides we have a fully qualified weather witch already."

"A weather witch," Sandry wrinkled her nose, "That's not always useful. I would be."

She took Vedris's silence as an offer to continue and passionately added, "Uncle, I know you care about me but I can take care of myself."

"I said no, and that's final," Vedris ordered, slamming his hand down on the table. Sandry remained standing there defiantly, cheeks flushed, braids swinging as she stomped a foot down.

"You need me," she informed him, knowing full well that he knew that too, and it would only serve to aggravate him further. She also knew she was being ridiculously stubborn - how many times had she requested to be allowed to be a part of the gang and turned down? – but she still clung desperately onto her dream. She would work in the gang with her uncle one way or another. She'd just have to show them how much she was worth until they were desperate to have her. She, and all the other stitch witches were able to do more than make pretty fabrics. It was almost an injustice to restrict them so!

"You need me," she repeated mulishly, not backing down even as Vedris rose to all of his ex-pirate height and loomed over her. _She was a bear, she was ten feet tall, she was courageous…  
_  
…And she was in the gang. Sandry blinked, processing the information.

"Could you repeat that?" she felt bubbly, her anger dissipating as quickly as her work became undone on a spindle. She stood up on her tiptoes, as if that would make the words come quicker.

"You're in, on certain conditions," Vedris repeated reluctantly, and Sandry felt a thrill of glee run through her. After so many arguments and debates, she was in. No more watching at the sidelines, no more feelings of helplessness, _she was in._ She could still see anger in Vedris's deep set eyes, but now overshadowed by worry and acceptance.

She hopped forward and kissed him on the cheek, "Don't worry, I'm going to be the best gang member Emelan has ever seen. Those Harriers won't know what hit them, I'm going to take Summersea by storm."

"That's what I'm worried about. Nothing's ever going to be quite the same again."


	2. Heist

**Series:** She's The Duchess  
 **Title:** Heist  
 **Event:** Cross Country Runs  
 **Words:** 1952  
 **Summary:** Emelan Gang AU. First heist. Sandry steals jewels and makes a friend while she's at it  
 **Comments:** Barely edited, I apologize for any magical inaccuracies and gaping plot holes

* * *

"This is boring," Sandry confided in the weather witch as they crouched behind the bushes. She studied the greenery without interest, then glanced up at the darkened sky. Dismal grey. She supposed it was the perfect time for a heist – who would want to be out at this hour and weather? Sandry yawned. In fact, she wouldn't have been out at this hour voluntarily if she hadn't been so focused on proving to her uncle that she was a valuable member.

The weather witch glared, "If you're going to keep attempting to talk to me, at least call me by my name, Tris."

Sandry beamed, and began chatting earnestly, "Oh, you can talk! I was beginning to wonder when you didn't reply for so long. I'm Sandry by the way." She tried to meet the other girl's gaze but ended up staring at the side of a head.

Tris continued staring balefully at a spot on the ground and after a while, where she seemed to be regretting her choice of replying, seemed to give in to Sandry and understand that there was no other option except to continue the conversation.

"It is rather boring, but it's a necessary part of the operation, if you do want to succeed and get these jewels. We must be patient while they check that our information is correct. It's not just a simple run and grab, there are factors to consider."

"Oh I know that," Sandry sighed a little wistfully, "But somehow I imagined this whole thing to be so much more," she paused, struggling for the word, hands waving enthusiastically as if to encapsulate her true meaning.

"Exciting? Action-packed? Adventurous?" Tris offered, raising one red eyebrow behind the frame of her spectacles.

"Yes," Sandry nodded empathetically, grabbing Tris's hands together and shaking them, "You understand me exactly!"

Sandry could see Tris making an awkward face and let go of her hands. The last thing she wanted to do was scare away the other girl, not when she had just become so adamant on them being friends.

Tris sighed slowly and nudged Sandry, "Stay aware. We mustn't miss the signal."

Sandry nodded seriously, eyes open and honest, "Of course. Oh, I do wish the weather were nicer, don't you? Can't you do something like send the storm away?"

Tris stared, eyes piercing, "That would use a great deal of strength, and another storm would only arrive. And besides," she sniffed, "I rather like the weather myself."

"That's alright," Sandry assured her, smiling, "It's just wishful thinking on my behalf." Tris fell silent, studying one of her many braids and Sandry tried not to squirm in anticipation and boredom. They were to rob a rich merchant's house, slipping in and out while most of the household was on holiday. She tried not to sulk about how her uncle refused to train her in simple pick pocketing. Basic work should not be below anyone.

Still, she knew her job and she had already done most of it well, spelling all of their clothes so as not to rustle or make a noise, and made it stain-proof. She admired her handiwork now, the way the mud just slipped off her dress without a trace, letting out a little hum of approval and happiness as it worked perfectly.

And then Tris was moving, standing up and dragging at her arm. Sandry wilted in disappointment at missing the signal, but stood up herself and hurried along, heart leaping.

Her breaths were harsh and dry in her throat as they sidled up towards the wall and moved along, thick vines shielding them from view. Her slippers gripped the ground as she hopped along, nimbly avoiding mossy patches. One, two, three, four, five steps. Sandry swallowed deeply, inhaled, and then stepped deep into a bush. Her fingers found the latch to the secret door and she worked it open, and stepped down into the tunnel. Seeing Tris step into the bush, her energy levels rose with the fast pounding of her heart. They were really doing this.  
She bounded along a step before she was aware of Tris hissing.

"My dress," she looked down, regarding Sandry with annoyance, and gesturing to where the fabric had caught onto the bush. Sandry waved her fingers in reply, sending out a message to the threads to snake away and let go of the plant, where they slid along the ground before returning to their original positions on the gown.

Sandry quirked an eyebrow, smiling crookedly, as Tris grumbled and nodded her head in gratitude, "Let's go."

The tunnel was lit by moonlight, with holes in the roof at regular intervals likely hidden by shrubbery. Made of plain rock, probably with mage help, it was a secret escape for the rich members of the household to flee in case of an assassination attempt. It was also the perfect place for robbers to enter and leave, Sandry reflected.

She wondered what they had to do to get the information on it.

Continuing her steady stride, they quickly reached a trapdoor in the wall. Sandry put her ear to it. Nothing. She eyes Tris, slightly nervous, who nodded curtly. The small movement reassured her, she steeled her nerves and reached out to gently rap it twice. Three knocks returned, the door opened and she stepped out into the cellar, seeing two members of her uncle's gang waiting for them.

Tris wrinkled her nose, "How typical. They couldn't even think of a good place to have it lead."

Sandry nodded, and filed that away in her mind as she hopped forward and up the stairs, brimming with energy. She dimly heard Tris whisper about servants staying behind but paid it little heed, instead admiring the gorgeous weaving of a rug. The house had been stripped of its valuables already, save for one room, and she sniffed at the people who didn't value good weaving. She would have taken the rug.

Erdogun took a look down each side of the corridor gestured firmly for them to follow. They padded silently up some stairs, Sandry unconsciously holding her breath, more so from anticipation than nervousness now.

The next few minutes passed in a blur of sharp breaths and tip toes, with the occasional burst of magic as she moved carpets and curtains away and back. They moved along the house quickly and without a trace, leaving nothing behind for tracker-mages, not even a moved thread where someone had made contact, Sandry taking a great deal of care and pride with each whisper of her mind.

And before long they were standing outside the study door, the rich oak swinging open to reveal its bounty. A huge fireplace with a mantelpiece was the key feature of the room directly opposite them, with a polished wooden desk situated to one side, a clutter of knick-knacks scattered on top and throughout the room on various stands and tables.

"We've got a problem," Tris breathed, squinting at the room.

Sandry whirled around, a step away from the doorway, "What's wrong?"

"I was hoping to lift us over, but the roof has been spelled as well," Tris muttered, "There's no way to get in without breaching the walls of the spell. Even if we could blast through, an alert would bring everyone in the neighbourhood running. We need the key."

Sandry nodded, but didn't step back. That was logic she could not argue against, but hoped to defeat, "What would this key be? Do you think they'd keep in in the room?"

"Some kind of jewel probably," Tris was speaking more to herself, "Sometimes shaped like a key, but most likely some big gold thing with a jewel. Probably kept in the study, it is the safest spot after all. If only we could get in and smash it."

"Could we use a stick to smash it? Or could you lightning blast it?" Sandry inquired.

Tris shook her head firmly, "Any foreign objects crossing would set off the alarm. That includes a lightning bolt."

"What about that amulet there?" …offered, pointing to a delicate gold piece with some type of jewel or glass in it. Sandry wished she had paid more attention when she had learnt about precious stones.

"That'll be it," Tris nodded.

Sandry clapped her hands together, "Well that's half of the problem solved! Are you sure you can't lightning blast it?"

Tris's reply sounded suspiciously like a growl, "No. And you can't solve all your problems by smashing them." Sandry pouted with good will and turned back to study the amulet.

"I wish it were possible though," Tris's voice cut through the air, "Believe me, I've tried."

Sandry giggled, one hand raised elegantly to cover her mouth.

Tris glared, but it was half-hearted, and not directed at her, "We might as well call this whole thing off. There's no way we can break a key without actually entering the room.

Sandry's eyes flashed dangerously, "I am not giving up on my first mission." She stood up a little straighter, "I am not!"

Tris stepped forward and Sandry strengthened her stance, shoulders wide and firmly set, eyes hard.

"Watch."

A smile spread across Sandry's face, lighting her up. With a single thought in her mind, the metal thread in a tapestry hanging on the wall came sliding out. Darting along the ground, each thread came together forming into a strong rope that kept moving towards the desk. She focused on the weave, the way each little thread slid around its neighbour, winding, swirling, and jumping over each other to wrap around another thread.

Sandry grinned, glowing with power. She valued efficiency, but sometimes it was nice to let the magic flow the way it wanted to.

Her rope reached the table, and swirled up a leg, where once it alighted, scooped up the amulet. Held strong by the force of her magic, the rope and its prize went over to the mantelpiece where a gorgeous diamond was resting. The rope and amulet went up, and came smashing down, the diamond and key colliding and shattering the stone into dozens of tiny shards that scattered over the floor.

Something not quite visible flickered and disappeared in the corner of her eye, and she saw Tris wipe her forehead and peer closer.

"It's gone," Tris said hoarsely, "You broke the key and the magic wards." She heard a thud. The other to gang members had each dropped the sacks they were holding and were staring in open awe. Sandry shifted uncomfortably under the intensity of their gazes, but then fixed her posture. She was strong, she had solved the problem.

"How?" Erdogun muttered, and Sandry smiled broadly, and lowered her hands gently.

"Nothing goes in, nothing comes out, no magic sent at the wall either," she blushed, "Luckily some people just don't understand ambient magic!"

"She's the Duke's niece, and powerful in her own right. She's one to keep an eye out for," the other member whispered.

Snapping out of her stupor, Tris became a flurry of action and curt commands. They worked quickly, stripping the office bare of jewels as Sandry sent the threads back to where they belonged. She buzzed throughout the whole thing, floating on elation, as she saw jewel after jewel be stuffed into a sack.

When at last they burst out of the house, Sandry still gleeful and jubilant at her success, Tris begrudging showing a speck of approval, Sandry turned to Tris and clasped her hands once more.

"That was fun," she smiled, and it was a simple smile of offered friendship, "Let's do that again."

Tris merely nodded in return, a hint of a smile dancing on her lips.


	3. Knives Are Sharp, But Puppies Are Sharpe

**100SS:** Knives Are Sharp, But Puppies Are Sharper, PG (She's The Duchess)  
 **Series:** She's The Duchess  
 **Title:** Knives Are Sharp, But Puppies Are Sharper  
 **Event:** Sharp Shooting  
 **Words:** 233  
 **Summary:** Emelan Gang AU. Sandry brings back a furry recruit and it earns its place

* * *

Sandry hadn't meant to return with a dog. But after seeing some boys beat it up in an alleyway, the easiest option had seemed to string them up in cocoons and take the dog for herself.

And that was how she wound up standing in front of her uncle, a quivering mass in her arms, while dozens of dangerous men and women crowded around curiously. She held firm under their gazes, and placed the mass on the ground.

"It's just a puppy," she protested obstinately. "It won't cause much fuss."

"On the contrary," Vedris leaned forward, "It will cause a lot of fuss."

Sandry glared furiously, but her wrath was averted as the noise of a fight made her turn, just in time to see the gleam of a dagger as it raced towards her.

She froze, transfixed, watching as the intruder was torn down, blood splattering, limbs flying, watching as the dagger soared closer to her heart.

All of a sudden something collided with her and the world turned sideways. She crashed into the ground, the stone floor slamming into her body.

The dagger sunk into the wall right behind where she was standing.

Sandry pushed herself up onto her elbows and rose woozily, staring at the puppy which had pushed her out of the way and now lay on the stone floor rolling playfully.

"Well," Vedris said hoarsely, "Maybe you can keep the puppy."


End file.
